


Journal of a Magus

by Utari



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Diary/Journal, Gen, Post-Apocalyptic, Short, War of the Magi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3197105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utari/pseuds/Utari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A journal entry written by a magus who fought in the War of the Magi which all but destroyed the world 1,000 years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journal of a Magus

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short journal entry meant to have been penned by a magus who fought in the War of the Magi that devastated the world 1,000 years before the game began. I wrote it to practise a more 19th century style of prose. It's short, but that's how I intended it to be.

I am authoring this journal to chronicle the events of the last several years such that they may never be repeated. I shall be forced to leave this village come early dawn and this journal will be the only remnant I shall be leaving behind.

Where to begin... Firstly, the phantom beasts did not start this war, man did. In a lust for their power that was first freely shared, mankind has waged a war on them. Not content with a portion of their power, we began to desire it all.

The phantom beasts once lived side-by-side with man; no longer. The first ones taken were so easily duped that it took quite some time before the rest learned the truth behind their disappearances.

They were hunted down and slaughtered like animals to obtain the very essence of their being, a magicite crystal, so that it may be infused into a human. They were, or perhaps I should say 'are', intelligent, sentient creatures perhaps more evolved than man.

They no longer live in this world. After the Great War, the remainder of their kind fled our realm into the safety of a world of their own creation. The War... it has utterly devastated the world. Should the next generation even survive to read this, know the horrors of what transpired!

The world was once full of machines and technology, but now its population exists in a most primitive state. There were machines that could weave clothing, forge iron and steel, move water up hills, sail on the ocean, dive beneath it and even fly in the air. All of that, and the people that created them have been destroyed.

Many people have forgotten or have chosen to forget what the world was like before. People now wear animal skins and hunt for food or search for it in the wilderness. Even night-time illumination is gone. No one is capable of building a machine that can produce candles, let alone use magic to create a light source.

Man has been reduced to a hunter-gatherer species. The soil is so barren that no crops will grow. Wild flora still survives in some quantity but seldom is it edible by man. Any livestock penned up invariably withers and dies. Week after week the conditions worsen. Many people have taken to killing each other to prevent competition for such scare resources.

It's almost as if the planet itself has rejected humanity and is trying to rid itself of a plague. It would not be wrong to do so after what we have done to it and the phantom beasts.

I may be the only one left who remembers what the world was like beforehand. I was a magus in the Arshenian guard. Which is why I must leave and be forever damned to wander this world lest I face death at the hands of the remaining population. For several months I was able to live in the remains of this village without arousing suspicion, but a child had received what should have been a fatal wound from a wild animal and I, without thinking of the consequences of my exposure, used a healing spell to remove his wound.

One might be wondering why I would face death at the hands of my fellow villagers for such an act. The reason is simple. The destructive power of magic outweighs its constructive power by several orders of magnitude.

I was not even a particularly skilled magus yet I can create a mobile inferno that leaves behind not even ashes in its wake. Burning hot enough to bypass vaporization, its heat is capable of turning even mithril into plasma. A blizzard capable of encasing an entire town in solid ice? Trivial. This is why the world has all but been destroyed. Man was not meant to possess this power and the phantom beasts were right to share only a small portion of their powers, at least until the remainder was forcibly taken from them.

The remaining people fear magi like myself. They have been hunted down and killed, or driven from civilization (and I use that word in the loosest sense possible) despite the fact that we are capable of using our powers for good. I suppose I cannot blame them for their fear. It was the magi that waged the war against the phantom beasts. It is doubtful the face of the world even matches the maps that were drawn only a few years ago.

This is why I must leave. I cannot give up my powers. They have been infused into my body and are inseparable from me now. I will likely never be accepted by another human being. I could travel to a far away town, but I would eventually be discovered again. Perhaps this is my curse for being responsible for so many innocent deaths.

Let it be known that mankind's lust for power is what started this war! The phantom beasts were kind creatures whose only failing was their willingness to trust man. If anybody survives to read this, I implore you, do not repeat the mistakes of the past!

Mankind was meant to live in a particular way and it was our deviation from that which caused this calamity to occur. If we are to survive, we must regain our sense of balance and harmony with nature.

 

The time for my departure grows near... I will not be committing my destination to paper for fear of being followed. I have no desire to be responsible for any more deaths. I will not take another life even if it means sacrificing my own so I shall depend on stealth to make my escape.

I only hope that this scrap of parchment is not destroyed in my stead when the villagers find it the only remnant of my being here.


End file.
